Lives in the Balance
by LadyNRA
Summary: What went on inside Ted's Restaurant after Artie issues his ultimatum during "Breakdown".


Authors Note: I don't own anything having to do with Warehouse 13. The cast, crew, and producers get all the credit. However, I want to thank them for allowing me to play with these characters now and then, especially Artie.

**Lives in the Balance**

By Lady NRA

The door of Ted's Restaurant closed behind Artie Nielsen with barely a hint of sound. The men and women in the room, Mrs. Frederic included, saw his head sink below the frosted panel partially obscuring the lower half of the large pane windows. Reason told her that he'd probably settled himself on the steps just outside to await their decision and for his sake, she wanted to wrap this up quickly. Grilling him about his mistakes had been a huge mistake, she's reiterated to Mr. Valda, who glared at her over his failure to maintain the upper hand. He hadn't expected Arthur Nielsen to stand up to him, let alone to suggest firing, or worse, killing him due to their dissatisfaction with his job performance. Something had gone wrong, Valda told himself again. Now he'd lost control of the whole conversation. Power had shifted to Nielsen for the briefest of moments. He allowed himself to rehash the gambit. 'Check,' Nielsen was saying. Valda and the others were now fighting to protect their king, which in this case, was their position of power to control decisions for Warehouse 13 and everything connected to it.

"I believe the ball is in your court."

Valda turned. He eyed Irene Frederic, Agent Nielsen's immediate supervisor, but she was already enjoying her bloody steak, devouring it with great gusto and refusing to acknowledge his presence. If truth be told, she was also chewing firmly to keep from smiling. This had worked out better than expected. Artie was no coward, that much was never in question. Just how brave he was, however, had just been demonstrated, and she was content to wait on the next step. It wasn't long in coming.

"Well, I suppose it's time to discuss how to handle both MacPherson and Nielsen," Valda murmured tiredly in his mellow British accent. He sighed heavily, and pivoted to look each of the other nine people in the eyes. Those eyes, those faces, represented so many different races and nationalities, and they had gone from the passionless poker faces of minutes ago to a range of fear and consternation and uncertainty. Monumental decisions needed to be made. Not next week, or tomorrow, or even later in the day. They needed to conclude this now, while all were congregated. Ted, the female owner, cook, waitress of the establishment, as well as a fellow Regent, flipped over another page on her pad and prepared to write down the proceedings. Valda nodded his understanding. She was saying, Okay, let's get on with this. He took another moment to admire her quirky attractiveness before signaling the others to voice their opinions.

"He's too unstable," the Asian man stated flatly.

"He's too old," a Caucasian member said, an irony in itself since he was far older than Nieslen. "He'll never be able to keep up with MacPherson.

"Who is not all that young himself," muttered the Hispanic man while wrinkling his nose at the mere mention of MacPherson's name…or perhaps at MacPherson's image in his mind.

The African woman, long hair glistening and braided beside her face bit her full lower lip for a second. When she spoke it was with an unidentifiable accent. "I think what Alexi is implying is that Agent Nielsen isn't physically fit when compared to who he needs to go up against."

This provoked a strong argument about the two men as if they were about to hop into a boxing ring.

Suddenly a stern voice broke through the heated debate. "Gentlemen and Ladies, let me be blunt. This isn't about physical ability nearly so much as mental agility, which I can assure you Arthur Nielsen possesses in great quantities."

"As does MacPherson," Valda stated firmly.

"Very true," Mrs. Frederic acknowledged with a nod of her head. "But James MacPherson is, presumably, out there on his own, a free agent so to speak, while we have three agents ready, willing, and able to face off against him, one of whom is angry enough to chew bricks right now even though he isn't showing it. Agent Nielsen has enough drive, inventiveness, and courage to do what must be done. Plus he has one thing you shamefully denigrated not more than a few minutes ago, one thing that will make all the difference. He'll take on MacPherson simply because to do otherwise would endanger the world. His compassion, which you consider to be a character flaw, is our organization's saving grace.

"That compassion is exactly what leads him astray," someone repeated an earlier sentiment.

Mrs. Frederic's eyes bored like two lasers through his skull, "At times, yes, but it is also what has kept him and his agents alive time and time again. He does nothing without judging it against the greater good. The agent's great good. _Our_ greater good. The _world's_ greater good!" As she spoke, her tone grew increasingly stern as if the force of her words could drive the concept into their hearts. _That_ is precisely why he's the man for the job. That is why he'll succeed. Because MacPherson only thinks of himself, only considers his own gain, only cares about pushing for an outcome as long as it doesn't threaten MacPherson himself. James is clever, yes. A scheming, conniving, selfish man. But he never was and never will be as courageous as Arthur Nielsen.

She paused to give them all her frighteningly intense stare before continuing, "What separates these two men is that Agent Nielsen is far more determined to do whatever it takes to do the right thing. The noble thing. Even if it means laying his life down for us all if that's what it takes to stop that maniac. And THAT is precisely why you can't remove him from this job. Arthur is the very best agent this Warehouse has ever seen, and he is, hands down, the best choice to lead a mission to stop MacPherson."

She had clearly finished speaking because she speared a fork into the red, dripping meat and daintily placed the fork in her mouth. It appeared as if she was in a fine establishment leisurely enjoying her meal rather than just discussing the salvation of the world from a lunatic bent on collecting dangerous artifacts for some nefarious and as yet unknown purpose.

For many seconds there was no further discourse from anyone. Collectively, they caught each others' eyes, and nodded. Then the flood gates opened and comments madly flew about the room like ducks scared by gunshots. Oddly though, there was no yelling. That was beneath them. And they didn't want their voices or the discussion carrying. But Benedict Valda took it all in while Ted scribbled furiously on her note pad. Curiously enough, they finished their debate before Mrs. Frederic had finished the last bite of her meal.

"Well? " she asked succinctly, after dropping the paper napkin onto the center of plate.

Sighing in resignation, Valda did the democratic thing. He took a vote. Once each member had spoken his peace, he nodded to Mrs. Frederic, who calmly got to her feet, smoothed down her dress, gathered her purse and headed for the door.

Outside, Agent Arthur Nielsen sat on the steps not far from the front door pondering all that had just happened. His job, perhaps even his life was in their hands and it chilled him to the bone, more so than confronting any artifact ever had. He stared at the few cars passing him and thought about the years of his life, passing one after another in the service of an organization that rarely appreciated anything he or his fellow agents did for the world at large. As his anger surged to the forefront once more, he quelled it by trying to clear his mind. For a few precious minutes all inner voices went silence. He took that respite to treasure the moment, the here and now.

Suddenly he was aware of a figure beside him. He tried to remember when he'd heard the restaurant's door open but failed. "Oh, God. How do you do that?" he asked of Mrs. Frederic as her formidable presence appeared in his peripheral vision. He looked up at her.

The woman didn't answer the question. Instead she said, "That was quite a performance."

Artie shrugged noncommittally. "Sounded better in my head. So am I fired?"

"Worse. They want you to stay. Bering and Lattimer are not the best agents we've ever had. You are."

Looking at her again, this time in surprise, Artie asked, "They said that?"

Mrs. Frederic's voice took on an odd tone, serious but with the slightest hint of humor. "It was said…and they were smart enough to believe me."

"Oh, thanks." Artie sounded just a bit surprised that she'd stood up to those powerful people on his behalf.

"Simply the facts."

At that, Mrs. Frederic stepped lightly down the stairs and toward the limo that had pulled up. Artie stared at it a second. It had appeared as suddenly as his superior often did. But he knew he couldn't just let her go without asking the most important question of all.

"What about MacPherson?"

Without turning to face him, she replied, "Good hunting. Try not to get yourself killed." And she entered the vehicle, closing the door quietly behind her.


End file.
